


Throwing Waffles through Hoops

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sports Night
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9229571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: Nobody quite knows where the waffles fit in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There should really be a story about the _Sports Night_ crew covering the Quidditch World Cup. This is not that story. Thanks to everyone who helped!

"Jeremy."

Jeremy looked up from the tape he was editing. "Dana."

"I'm refusing your vacation request."

"Refusing?"

"Your vacation request, yes."

"I didn't even know you actually had to approve my vacation requests. I thought it was just a formality."

"A rubber stamp? You'd like it if I just had a rubber stamp." She cocked her head. "I'd like it if I had a rubber stamp, actually. I should get Kim to look into that. Anyway. Say bon voyage to your bon voyage."

"You're refusing my vacation request."

"I believe we've covered this ground already. Yes, I'm refusing your vacation request."

"Why?"

"Because you're planning on spending it writing about people who fly around on brooms and throw waffles through hoops. People do not fly around on brooms, Jeremy, and even if they did, they wouldn't throw waffles through hoops while doing so." She waved a sheaf of papers at him, and he wondered how she'd gotten hold of his letter to _Quidditch International._

"My people do," he blurted.

"Jews from Connecticut fly around on brooms and throw waffles through hoops?"

"Dan's from Connecticut, I'm from Boston, and no. _Wizards_ fly around on brooms and throw _Quaffles_ through hoops." He shifted nervously, wondering if coming out like this was wise, or if he should go for a quick _obliviate_ before things got out of hand.

"Wizards. Waffles." Dana shook her head. "Well, Natalie does say you can work magic with your tongue."

"I wish she hadn't told you that. And more importantly, I really wish you hadn't told me that."

"Jeremy."

"There's a whole other world, Dana, and it contains wizards and magic and people who fly around on broomsticks tossing Quaffles through hoops."

"Is this some kind of geek thing? Too many hours spent playing Dungeons and Dragons or something?"

Well, disbelief was even better -- and less guilt-inducing -- than _obliviate_ , in the long run. "Yes, that's exactly it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish editing Dan's piece on the Cubs." He returned to the editing bay, and then twisted around to face her again. "And you'll be granting me two weeks' vacation to cover the Quidditch World Cup for _Quidditch International_. It's the first time it's ever been held in the United States, and I'm not missing it."

"Fine," she said, "but you're taking Dan and Casey with you."

She was gone before he had the chance to explain that they probably wouldn't be able to see anything, as they were both Muggles, and even if they could, they couldn't broadcast anything.

***

"So there's a whole world that exists, in parallel to ours, where magic is real and you're a wizard?" Dan asked, tapping his pen on the edge of the conference table.

Jeremy sighed and pushed his glasses up so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's not another world, like, a dimensional portal or anything. It's here in this world, it's just... separate."

Casey leaned a hip on the table and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but how is this even possible? How could this whole other world exist and we didn't know it? We're reporters, Jeremy. We have keen journalistic instincts." Jeremy refrained from pointing out they were _anchors_ , which wasn't the same thing at all. "We would _know_ if this was true. And since we don't know--"

"It's true." They all turned to see Isaac standing in the doorway. "Don't ask me how I know," he continued, "but believe that I do."

Jeremy smiled.

Dan looked up and said, "So what's with the waffles?" and Jeremy buried his face in his hands.

"Please," he said to Isaac, "don't make me take them. It's against the International Statute of Secrecy. I could get into a lot of trouble--"

"Don't worry, son," said Isaac, clapping him soundly on the shoulder. "Ludo Bagman is an old friend of mine."

A few hurried phone calls and letters later, and Jeremy, Dan and Casey were loaned to _Quidditch International_ to cover the tournament.

***

"The fact that we even made it out of the first round was more than I expected, so I'm a little overwhelmed," Harry was saying as Remus returned to the booth. He had stayed well away from the press during the tournament, but Isaac Jaffe had been kind to him when he'd most needed and least expected it, and he'd wanted to pay his respects to the men Isaac had sent to cover the tournament. He hadn't expected the American reporters to include him when they invited Harry and Ron to go into town for drinks, and he'd thought about begging off, but the novel experience of discussing Quidditch with Muggles won him over. That, and the fact that there was something familiar about the one named Dan, something Remus couldn't quite place, but it intrigued him.

He'd always been too curious for his own good.

Now, he sat down and let his attention drift as Harry and Jeremy chattered about his performance and England's chances in the final match. He found himself watching the two Muggles, or, more accurately, he found himself watching Dan watch Casey. The fact that they'd been allowed to cover the tournament had been the biggest scandal of the first week, overshadowed only when it was discovered that the German team had replaced their injured captain with retired star Hans Werner, using polyjuice.

They had a good working rhythm, he noticed, and a sharp, clever way with words he appreciated. They also seemed to have picked up the basics of the game fairly quickly, considering that two weeks ago they hadn't even known the wizarding world existed, but he supposed they were used to the intricacies of sport. Apparently they were quite famous on the Muggle telly. He could understand why -- they were both attractive in a non-threatening way, pleasant and intelligent as they discussed the finer points of England's victory over Brazil and Harry's part in it.

Harry got up to use the lav and Remus found himself next to Dan in the booth, shoulders and thighs pressed together. Remus thought he might have done it on purpose. It had been a while.

"We haven't been properly introduced," he said, holding out a hand. "Remus Lupin."

"Dan Rydell."

They shook hands.

"So you work for Isaac."

"We do." Dan took a long sip of beer and Remus watched his throat move as he swallowed. "He's a great man, Isaac Jaffe. Like a father to me."

Remus nodded. "He does have that quality."

"How do you know him?"

Remus remembered the hard days of his self-imposed exile after James and Lily's deaths, the years spent traveling from place to place with no certainty of anything, least of all where his next meal would come from. He'd arrived in America with no money and no connections, and hadn't got very far at all, even though there was more mingling between wizard and Muggle society here, and the werewolf control laws were less restrictive.

"Isaac gave me a job when I needed one, and they were very hard to find. He took a chance on me, one most people wouldn't have, and I've always been grateful for that."

Dan's mouth quirked in a half-grin. "He does have that quality."

Remus clinked his glass against Dan's. "To Isaac."

"To Isaac," Dan responded, lifting his glass, and the others joined in the toast.

Harry came back, and this time, when Remus slid out of the booth to let him back in, Dan slid out behind him, though the conversation between them lagged. Remus had never been good at keeping up small talk with strangers, had always relied on them to lead the way and let him encourage them discreetly to talk about themselves and their interests, rather than talking about himself. Dan seemed more inclined to brood, though, and Remus wasn't particularly interested in that.

"We've been together nine years," Dan said suddenly, his gaze never leaving Casey, who was giving a very lively reenactment of the New England Patriots' Super Bowl win, which was mostly lost on the British wizards.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations."

"Not together, together," Dan clarified hurriedly. "I mean, we've worked together for nine years. Casey's dating someone named Pixley. She's very cute." There was a sour note in his voice as he said this.

"You don't like cute?"

"I like cute just fine."

"You don't like Pixley."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Whoa. Can you, like, read my mind? Because that would be... pretty damn creepy, actually."

Remus laughed. "No, nothing like that. I just-- You remind me of... someone I used to know."

"Well, that's never encouraging."

Remus quirked his eyebrow again. "Should I be encouraging you?"

"It can only lead to hijinks. Or possibly mayhem. Wackiness might ensue."

"I used to be quite the mischief-maker in my day," Remus replied. "And I like to keep my hand in."

Dan took a long look at Casey, who was now being regaled in return with the inspirational story of the Chudley Cannons' sudden drive towards victory when Harry had joined the team, and then looked back at Remus with a smile that almost didn't seem forced.

"Want to get out of here?" Dan said, and Remus thought of all the reasons he shouldn't.

He downed the rest of his beer and set the glass down on the table. "God, yes."

Remus glanced over to where most of Dan's attention had been focused, but Casey didn't even notice they were leaving.

They stumbled back to his tent, which wasn't particularly fancy, but it had a warm, comfortable bed, and that was all they really needed.

"I still can't quite get my head around this whole thing," Dan murmured as Remus drew him inside. "I mean, okay, magic, sure, why not? But how could you keep Quidditch a secret? A whole sport that's so much more exciting than soccer, and you've kept it a secret for hundreds of years. I just don't--"

Remus shut him up with a kiss. It was sloppy, awkward, and good. Dan tasted of heat and beer and salt. His lips were soft and full and his hands were warm through the thin material of Remus's shirt. Remus walked backwards until he hit the bed, and then he pulled Dan down into his lap, breaking the kiss only long enough to take a few quick breaths. Dan's hands tangled in his hair, pulling a little, and the twinge of pain shivered along his nerves, quickly transmuted into pleasure. He'd missed this.

It was rough and a little desperate, hands pulling shirts out of trousers and fingers fumbling over buttons, the scrape of stubble and teeth over sensitive skin, followed by the slick heat of a tongue.

He was straddling Dan's hips, sucking on the spot just beneath his ear, which made Dan moan and buck up against him, his hands working at unzipping Dan's trousers, when Dan said, "I'm not gay."

Remus sat back immediately, hands held loosely at his sides. "We can stop if you want to." His voice was ragged. "If you've never done this before--"

"I didn't say I'd never done this before. I just said I wasn't gay."

Remus thought about all the things he could say to that, but said only, "Okay," in as understanding a tone as he could manage under the circumstances.

"I mean, even if I were gay, which I'm not, I couldn't be openly gay, because I'd totally lose my job, and I love my job." He shifted up onto one elbow and reached for Remus's hand to pull him down into another kiss. "I _really_ love my job."

"At this point, I don't actually care if you're gay or not," Remus said against Dan's lips, hands once more working at shoving his trousers down. "We're just having a fuck. You're not making a commitment." He gave up and, with a wordless spell, banished their trousers and underwear so they could slide against each other, skin on skin.

Dan gasped and arched up into him. "Okay, I might be vaguely gay. Or, you know, bisexual. I do like women. I just -- _God_ , that feels good -- like men, too."

Remus kissed him again, laughing, and Dan laughed with him, open and generous. Remus could feel him relax, the tension in his body now nothing to do with Casey and everything to do with _him_.

Dan continued to babble as they moved together, _yes_ , and _God_ , and _I think the Red Sox have a shot this year_ ; Remus let it wash over him, more focused on the soft-hard feel of muscle beneath his hands, the salt-slick taste of skin on his tongue, and the steady, inexorable thrum of pleasure building inside of him.

Dan threw his head back, the tendons of his neck standing out in sharp relief, and his kiss-swollen lips curving in a small O as he came with a guttural moan and a shudder, body going completely slack against the mattress.

Remus let out the breath he'd been holding, and closed his eyes; the darkness behind his eyelids went white around the edges, pleasure pulsing through him and out in waves. He collapsed onto Dan, buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke, Dan was stumbling around in the darkness, trying to pull his trousers on.

Remus fumbled for his wand and lit it silently. "Going somewhere?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"I, uh, have to go back to the hotel. Casey's probably wondering where I am."

"Look," he said, not unkindly, "why don't you just--"

"Casey's not gay." Dan slumped down into the overstuffed armchair that made up the living room area of the tent. "And I mean that literally this time."

"Oh. Well. That's shite, mate. I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am." Dan buried his face in his hands.

Remus got up and walked over to him, for once not worried about his own nakedness in the face of Dan's unexpected vulnerability. He ruffled Dan's hair, then squatted down to look him in the eye when he raised his face.

"You could just come back to bed."

Dan looked up, mouth curved in a sad smile. "I could?"

"You could."

"I could come back to bed with you," he said, and they rose together. "And maybe later we could have some waffles. I'm still not sure where they fit into this whole thing."

Remus laughed and led him back to bed. "I'm not exactly certain," he said, "but maybe later we can find out."

end


End file.
